


Open Twenty-Four Hours

by BlueBloodstains



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz, Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Canon, the squip is an ass, these boys need it, theyre sad boys, theyre sad together in front of a 7-eleven, this is my first DEH fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-11
Updated: 2017-08-11
Packaged: 2018-12-14 04:33:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11775588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueBloodstains/pseuds/BlueBloodstains
Summary: The rumor goes that if you go to this 7-Eleven while you’re feeling down aboutanything, anything at all, there’ll be somebody that can relate to your plight, and it’s basically an unspoken rule that you talk to them.Rachel Flynn had said that a couple weeks ago she had been having a panic attack in the bathroom because her girlfriend had cheated on her, and another girl helped her through it. They talked after and the girl had apparently been cheated on byherboyfriend.Michael Lee Brown had bonded with a guy because they both had accidentally released their favorite elaborately bred and rare Pokèmon from their Box a little while before they had trudged to the convenience store, the beloved digital creatures never to be seen again.There were many differences, but the only constants in all of the stories was that it was late, it was quiet, and the two were alone.





	Open Twenty-Four Hours

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Raise A Glass (Or Plastic Cup...)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11494626) by [i_am_NOT_french](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_am_NOT_french/pseuds/i_am_NOT_french). 



Everybody knows about that 7-Eleven. The one by the mall? You know the one.  _ Oh _ , but you could’ve  _ sworn  _ it was right next to that one grocery store. You know, the grocery store with that red car that never leaves and is rumored to have been there since the beginning of time? Wait-but didn’t somebody tell you that it was near the restaurant with those  _ amazing  _ french fries? Or, wasn’t it-

 

It doesn’t really matter. 

 

The point is, everybody knows about this specific 7-Eleven no matter where it’s allegedly located. Everybody knows it’s the same one because of that damaged-to-all-hell poster that’s stuck to the glass door in the front, and the smashed tile that’s been there for years near the candy bar section. People think the poster  _ used  _ to have something about discounted slushies on it before it was made unrecognizable through mysterious means, and the tile was apparently “accidentally” broken by a dude in a black hoodie a few years back.

 

The rumor goes that if you go to this 7-Eleven while you’re feeling down about  _ anything, anything at all,  _ there’ll be somebody that can relate to your plight, and it’s basically an unspoken rule that you talk to them. 

 

Dustin Kropp said that he went into the convenience store because he was tired, it was late and his mother had just passed from cancer, and he said he’d found a girl who was crying near the donuts because her aunt had just perished in a car accident. 

 

Rachel Flynn had said that a couple weeks ago she had been having a panic attack in the bathroom because her girlfriend had cheated on her, and another girl helped her through it. They talked after and the girl had apparently been cheated on by  _ her  _ boyfriend.

 

Michael Lee Brown had bonded with a guy because they both had accidentally released their favorite elaborately bred and rare Pokèmon from their Box a little while before they had trudged to the convenience store, the beloved digital creatures never to be seen again.

 

There were many differences, but the only constants in all of the stories was that it was late, it was quiet, and the two were alone. Well, besides the cashier.

 

(people frequently wonder aloud how you go about getting a job at _the_ 7-Eleven, but people can’t seem to ever find a _“help wanted”_ sign plastered on the windows, or remember the cashier’s face in order to ask them later)

 

After, if one had gotten the other’s number, they would find it to be gone from their pockets or their phones by the time they had gotten home. The two would never see each other again.

 

Some people believe that this seemingly simple convenience store was magic, some believe it to be coincidence, some believe them to be strange fever dreams. Others just simply don’t care.

 

But the stories continue to be told.

 

___________________________________________

 

Jeremy Heere was awake. Jeremy Heere was awake, and he doubted he’d be asleep for quite a while. It was… He unlocked his phone and glanced at the clock, groaning when he saw the time. It was three o'clock in the morning and it was too early for this bullshit.

 

_ You can’t even sleep correctly. What  _ can  _ you do right? _

 

Jeremy has to resist screaming and throwing his pillow at the wall where he knows the supercomputer is currently standing.

 

_ Too bad my form is incorporeal.  _

 

...He did it anyways.

 

_ Now what did that solve, Jeremy? I’m still here. I will always be here. _

 

Jeremy rolled out of bed, not sparing the SQUIP a passing glance as he headed towards his closet. Michael would probably make a dumb “Heere” joke if he was, well… Heere.

 

_ Thinking about your friends? The friends you hurt? The ones you betrayed?  _

 

“That was you!” He hissed out loud in frustration, careful not to be too loud so he doesn’t wake his dad. He knows it’s a lie, and so does the SQUIP.

 

_ Not all of it. I didn’t call Michael a loser. I didn’t abandon my best friend for a girl and some fleeting, hopeless dream of popularity. I didn’t fall in love with the person I abandoned to a panic attack in a bathroom. That was, and still is, all you. _

 

Jeremy flinched, his feet stalling. He winced when he heard the familiar mantra in his mind, the ache in his heart almost painful.

 

_ Everything about you is so terrible. _

 

He clenched his teeth, his hands squeezed into tight balls.

 

_ Everything about you makes me want to die. _

 

Jeremy forced his feet to keep moving, sliding open his closet door to reveal the case of the familiar crimson soft drink.

 

_ Why would Michael want to be with a loser like you? Need I remind you what happened on Halloween? I wasn’t even on for that part. That was  _ your fault _ , Jeremy. _

 

He jerkily grabbed a bottle of the Mountain Dew Red, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip, slumping a little in relief when the malicious, robotic voice fades. Of course, that doesn’t stop the overgrown toaster from getting in one last comment as it fades.

 

_ Why would anybody care about someone like you? _

 

Jeremy reclined until he was laying on the floor, and the question bounced around in his head, demanding attention. Why  _ would  _ they? Do they?  _ Fuck,  _ Jeremy thought, dragging a hand down his face.

 

It’s too early for this.

 

___________________________________________

 

Jeremy entered the convenience store at three-thirteen, hastily thrown on shoes dragging on the tiled floor. He had been walking aimlessly, letting his mind wander. As he had approached, he had vaguely registered that he was near the frozen yogurt shop that Chloe and Brooke went to sometimes (he would later ask Brooke and Chloe if there was a 7-Eleven next to Pinkberry and receive an unsure, resounding “Maybe?” in response). 

 

He had come here because he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while, and he figured that maybe he’d crash after a while if he ate enough sugary shit. It was a flawed plan, but he was tired and wasn’t focusing too much on the world around him, his thoughts more centered on the SQUIP’s most recent attempt at bringing him down.

 

Well. It wasn’t an attempt, really. 

 

It had worked, so.

 

(if he had been paying more attention, he would have noticed the damaged, unreadable poster on the door)

 

Jeremy walked over to the candy aisle, numbly grabbing a bunch of the non-descript chocolate bars and heading towards the cashier. 

 

(If Jeremy had been more awake, he would have noticed the cracked tile right next to his foot)

 

“U-Uh, excuse me. You, um. Y-You dropped this.” Jeremy snapped out of his own toxic thoughts, turning around to see a boy standing behind him, the teen’s hand on his shoulder. The boy quickly retracted his hand, stammering apologies and messing with the hem of his shirt. He had short, blond hair and had a cast over his left arm. On his cast was the name “Connor” written on it in big, blocky letters, and the name covered most of the space on the cast. He held out Jeremy’s wallet (how did that get out of his pocket?) and Jeremy took it.

 

“Thank you… Uh...” 

 

“My n-name is, erm, Ev-Evan H-Hansen.” 

 

“I’m, um, Jeremy Heere. Nice to meet you, I-I guess?” Evan nodded his head, staring at the floor as Jeremy paid for his sugary self-hatred escape, and Jeremy glanced at the anxious teenager as he was about to leave.

 

“You aren’t gonna get anything?” Jeremy asked, nodding his head at the somewhat large selection of unhealthy food choices. The smaller teen tore his gaze away from his feet and looked at the multicolored plastic bags, before shaking his head silently. Jeremy reached into his bag of questionable life decisions and pulled out a chocolate bar that his sleep-deprived brain was not equipped to identify, holding it out.

 

“You can have one of mine,” Jeremy stated, and Evan’s expression turned horrified. “N-No, I couldn’t p-possibly take t-that-” 

 

“It’s fine, dude. I’ve literally got, like, a pile of these things. I’m not gonna miss this one.” Evan’s mouth clamped shut and he shakily took the chocolate, handling it like it was about to burn him. A thought suddenly struck Jeremy and he leaned to glance at the floor behind Evan, eyes widening, and he quickly snapped his head to the glass door of the convenience store, his mind blanking.

 

“S-So, uh. We might be in that one super freaky 7-Eleven? The one that apparently is destiny, or some shit.” Jeremy watched Evan glance at the same places he did; putting his hands in his pockets slowly when he saw the same signs.

 

“You wanna go outside and talk about stuff?” Jeremy inquired, and Evan started shaking his head, stopped, and then hesitantly nodded. Jeremy exited, holding the door open for Evan, and stopped once he had found a relatively clean spot to sit down. Evan followed, looking like every step was causing him physical pain, and sat down next to him. A stifling silence fell over the two of them.

 

“So, I’ll start I-I guess.” Jeremy sighs. “I abandoned my friend for a bossy wintergreen tic-tac that hates me, popularity that won’t matter after high school, and a girl that I broke up with within two weeks of dating her. I also almost zombified the whole school, and maybe the world, into a shiny, happy hivemind. Now I have a crush on the friend I abandoned, I have a supercomputer living in my brain telling me how awful I am and a lot of the time I believe it, and I’m out at-” He checks his phone for the second time that night- “four in the morning buying sugary shit in hopes that the sugar high will give me a sugar crash that allows me to get more than four hours of sleep tomorrow. Or is it today?  _ Fuck _ , I don’t know.”

 

Instead of the silence or the  _ ‘dude, are you high?’ _ he was expecting, Evan starts talking too.

 

“I-I uh, I pretended to be best friends with a guy who, um, killed himself b-because of a misunderstanding, and then it s-spiraled out of control because me and my f-friends made a blog about it and it g-got really popular but it was all founded on a lie, so I lied to my friends, my crush, my m-mom and Con-his parents about how we were b-best f-friends and how we constantly emailed each other when I barely even kn-knew him. Now I’m even more friendless than before and the girl I like will probably never speak to me again.”

 

Jeremy was silent, taking in what he had just heard. He quietly took out a chocolate bar, opened it, and started chewing on a kit-kat, smiling a little when he noticed Evan hesitantly doing the same with the one Jeremy gave him.

 

Jeremy swallowed and muttered, “That fucking sucks.” Evan tiredly nodded in agreement.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, It d-does. It sounded like y-yours wasn’t too great either.” Evan jerked forward, “N-Not that I’m a-a-assuming or anything, I-I didn’t mean to-” Jeremy waved him off.

 

“It was awful,” Jeremy frowned. “Still is, I-I guess.”

 

Evan began messing with the hem of his shirt once more, and Jeremy hissed in frustration.

 

“I just-I ruined my life, I hurt  _ so many people _ and I don’t know how they forgave me for it. Just like,” He snapped his fingers, “Just like that. How do-How do they forgive me? I don’t-I don’t feel like I deserve it, you know? I haven’t done anything to deserve their kindness. Everything about me is just-” Jeremy ran a hand through his hair. “ _ Terrible _ .” Jeremy laughed wetly with no real humor, tears freely running down his face.

 

“I don’t know how I’m gonna make up for what I did,” Evan murmured, his voice soft and sad. “I’m not sure if  _ I’ll  _ ever forgive myself, much less  _ them  _ forgive _me_. I don’t know what to do, and it’s horrible because I’m not sure if there’s anything I  _ can  _ do.” Evan’s voice trembled, and he curled into himself. “How do I find good things about _ every day  _ if I can’t find a single good thing about  _ me _ ?” 

 

“I d-don’t know.” Jeremy weakly answered, laughing humorlessly once more. Jeremy put his head in his hands, breath uneven. “I have  _ no idea,  _ man.”

 

They stayed like that for a while, crying with each other and talking until they were thirsty and Jeremy had to go in and buy something to drink for the both of them (Evan had money with him and paid Jeremy back, he just  _ really didn’t _ want to talk to the cashier if he could help it). 

 

Eventually, the crying died down and they both realized that they had to go home before their parents woke up when the first spots of color danced across the sky, signaling the coming sun just on the horizon. They both had ended up demolishing Jeremy’s bag of sugary substances together, and Jeremy could feel the sugar high wearing off.

 

“Thanks. F-For, uh, listening. And for the chocolate and for getting me a drink.” Evan smiled weakly, but genuinely. Jeremy smiled back, giving a simple “No problem dude, and you too.” in response. They stood up and Jeremy threw his plastic bag away. “You’ll find reasons to like yourself, Evan. It probably won’t happen tomorrow- or is it today? Ugh. Whatever,” Jeremy huffed, smiling tiredly, “but it’ll happen.” 

 

Evan looked somewhat unconvinced, but thanked him nonetheless. “T-Thanks. And you should tell your friend. The one you like, I mean. You should tell them you like t-them. Secrets aren’t-well, they aren’t good for a-anything, you know? Everything about you isn’t terrible.” Jeremy nodded, looking away. Uncertainty curled in his stomach, but it wasn't as heavy as it was before.

 

“I’ll see you around?” Jeremy asked, even though they both knew the answer.

 

“Yeah.” 

 

And they went home.

 

(Later, when Jeremy’s dad would open the door to his son’s room, he would notice the dark circles under Jeremy’s eyes as he slept, and would let him sleep through the school day. He would sleep soundly until 6 PM, easily the best rest he’d had for a while.)

(Later, Evan would apologize to Jared, and their friendship would continue, though strained, still salvageable.)

 

Everything wasn’t fine, but that was okay, because they were getting there. 

 

(Much later, Jeremy would confess to his best friend and there would be a lot of crying, and a lot of kissing.)

(Much later, Evan would write a letter to himself and believe what it said.)

 

And that was enough.


End file.
